Horns & Hooves
I’m not the problem you see,
there’s not one horn on my head.
All these bishops and statesmen,
just blame me in their stead.
For their own dark crimes
they commit for greed and pride.
I never fed you an apple, just a taste of
the seeds. I gave your weak hands a grasping, so
you could get off your knees; and there you stand,
that bloody book still in your hands.
Don’t blame me, you swear, you’ve done all that you could.
Dont’ blame me, you swear, by your horns and your hooves...
I see your whole world is burning, I
didn’t put the flame in your hand,
your ambitions are quite ugly if your thirst has no end;
for the ignorance of your mouth, to devour
the rooms of the house. And to the wild-eyed pious,
who all scream out my name, who stand there shaking their feathers,
but were always to blame...
You’ve danced around the truth for as long as you could,
but your tail’s catching up, to your horns and your hooves!